Regret
by unwrittennovel
Summary: Before the FAYZ he never felt remorse for the things he has done. No, he never felt guilty about taking little Susie's lunch money or beating up the kid down the block. But when she died his entire perspective changed. Pairing: a little onesided Orc/Bette


"I'll kill you all! I swear when I get out of here, my whip hand will-" More profanity shot out from the basement. The chains on the door rattled, creaked, and threatened to snap as Drake Merwin continued to screech promises of death and torture.

A half boy, half gravel mutant named Orc sat on the dirty floor cluttered with old beer bottles. He groaned and took another swig. He could not stop that night; he drank more than usual. For some strange reason he could not help but feel extra remorseful that night. What was so special about that night?

With a pang of guilt, the former bully remembered. It was the anniversary of _her _death. It was _her_ death day. One year after his bat embedded itself into her skull, one year after he killed his love.

"_If you kill, you're goin' straight to hell!"_

One of the things Orc did not miss about the old days, the days before the FAYZ wall came up, was his parents. No, unlike most kids, he did not miss the warm nurturers telling him what to do. Warm nurturers…he could almost laugh at how his parents were the total opposite. In fact, he rejoiced at them not being in the FAYZ. He did not miss his father drilling holes in his hands or his mother shouting at him. Now he regretted not listening. If he listened, she would still be alive, and the Lord would not be punishing him.

"The wetback will be the first to die. Oh, yes, whip him till his spine shows and run him over with his backhoe…"

He was getting tired of Drake's violent words. In a sudden decision, Orc staggered to his feet. Being only rock with one flesh eye, it was a difficult task. However, he was determined to get out of the house. With one quick flick of his stony legs, the boulder boy stood up and walked outside the door.

The night air was dry and cool, typical for November weather in Perdido Beach. Everything seemed normal for a night in a small California town. That is, except for the FAYZ wall that created a fake sky, fake stars, fake moon. And the fact that the Zil and the Human Crew set the town on fire months ago, creating a town full of ashes. It seemed like nothing was ever real in the FAYZ. The burnt plaza was almost completely deserted, apart from the eternally slumbering cadavers six feet under the icy earth and the lone young man seemingly made of rock. Orc stood in front of a single grave.

The wood crosses seemed to grow out of the ground and multiply as each day went on. Each bore a name on it, symbolizing the souls who left the fishbowl known as the FAYZ. One name caught his eye. It was the first name to be crudely carved on a cross. He whispered her name, trying to see what emotions it evoked. "Bette…"

His heart beat faster and faster. Oh, yes. There were several emotions still there. But it wasn't the same feeling of ecstasy or affection; it was…

_Grief. _Oh, how it hurt to say her name. Bouncing Bette. He remembered how she used to strut around the school, never ceasing to hop, or bounce as people infamously called her. She bounced when she talked, laughed, even when she defended her little brother from bullies like him. Her long red hair would spring along with her, and her eyes would sparkle as the stars would on a clear night. No, not like the faux stars of the FAYZ, but the genuine, Galileo-really-saw-it celestial bodies. She really was beautiful. Now her body lies under a pile of dirt and a roughly made cross.

_Anger. _Orc felt the familiar burning awareness build up inside him. When Bette died, this feeling rose. He wasn't sure whom he was angry with. He felt anger at Caine and Drake for imposing the law that all "magic tricks" were prohibited. He felt anger at whoever made the FAYZ happen. He even felt anger at Bette for breaking the law, showing that she was a moof just like him and all the enemies of the Human Crew. However, he knew deep down he really felt anger at himself, the murderer. He was nothing but a common bully, a thug that was bigger than everyone and called himself a captain. Orc never wanted to hit her, but all the other bullies egged him on. He remembered how she tried to grasp for someone, just someone to help her. Orc was angry at himself; for it is his fault she now holds hands with Death.

But most of all, he felt _regret._ Before the FAYZ he never felt remorse for the things he has done. No, he never felt guilty about taking little Susie's lunch money or beating up the kid down the block. He was a bully, a common thug. Then the world ended. At least for every kid within twenty miles of the power plant. It was not a big explosion or a tsunami hitting the surface; it was a wall closing in around them, never letting anyone out. The bullies easily rose to the top of the food chain. Orc named himself captain with his trusty sidekick Howard by his side. He joined forces with the demons Caine and Drake, foolishly thinking he was still in charge. He was delusional with power, forgetting his small feelings for Bette. Oh, how he regretted swinging that bat at her head.

"_No, stop! I wasn't doing anything wrong!" she screamed as she clutched her bleeding head. The left side of her face was covered in the crimson liquid, and a large gash bled freely above her temple. _

"_I warned you to stop using the power, but you didn't listen. Now prepare to be punished," Orc said coldly and somewhat warily as he brought the aluminum bat down once again. He didn't want to do this, but Drake was making him punish those who broke the rules. He felt a little relieved when she managed to get away for a little while. Maybe Bouncing Bette might make it after all._

But she didn't make it. Bette died that day, and Orc hated himself from that day on. He felt guilty about killing her, so he took up drinking to try to forget about it. He felt he was truly a monster, just as his appearance suggests. As the days wore on, the regret increased their density on Orc's gravel shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Bette…"

The words uttered held every pound of guilt and regret. The young man left the plaza and the snoozing corpses, the sack of guilt still on his shoulders and not to be lifted off any time soon.


End file.
